


Malady

by I_was_BOTWP



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Samhain, Smut, pregnancy loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_was_BOTWP/pseuds/I_was_BOTWP
Summary: Draco and Hermione have been married for a few years. Draco has begun to suffer from a mystery illness.  It seems to get better every time Hermione goes away on business.





	Malady

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to ElleMartin for her time in making this story better!

Draco bowed his head and stared at his twitching hands. About three years ago, he’d noticed a tick.  He’d written it off as stress.  Hermione had just gone through a second miscarriage, and tensions had been high all around.

He’d hid it for a while, letting their family healer focus on his wife. Narcissa hadn’t been helping matters during that period either; his mother was single-minded in her goal to ensure a grandchild. Six months had gone by before the twitch couldn't be hidden, because he had trouble holding his wand steady. He was an intelligent and adept wizard, but wandless magic wasn’t something he’d ever excelled at.

The day after that second miscarriage, Hermione had woken up with the plan to open a home for Muggleborn witches and wizards who were in need of a safe place to live.  Too often these children didn’t end up with a loving family life, such as the one Hermione grew up with, but an abusive one because of their differences.

As a published author who studied the roots of magic and the genetics behind it, Hermione was already considered an expert in the study of Muggleborns.  She’d delved extensively into the Malfoy, the Black, and even the Nott family libraries to study spells used for magic sharing, magic binding, and theories on activating latent magic in Squibs.

She proposed the idea for foster homes and subsequent adoption program to Draco, but hadn’t really looked for his approval.  Nor did she need to.  His money helped, but she had plenty of her own, along with the connections, time, and drive to make it happen.

Hermione’s work with the foster program meant extensive travel.  She would appear after two or three weeks away either with word on a child in need she’d discovered, or sometimes with one holding her hand and a small bag of personal items.

At first he’d thought she meant to have the two of them adopt one of these children, but she seemed to want to keep trying for one of their own first.  Narcissa couldn’t completely hide how aghast she’d been at the idea of helping take in Muggleborn babies and young children.  She now tolerated it; the program was good public relations for their family. His mother did still cringe whenever Hermione showed up with a baby in her arms, most likely worried this was the one she’d be forced to name as a grandchild rather than one of her blood.

In the midst of Hermione’s growing success, Draco's health continued to decline. If it had just been the twitching, maybe he’d accept it and move on.  He had house elves to help him, a doting mother still living in her wing of the manor, and a loving wife who kept researching tirelessly for an answer.  He didn’t need to work - there was no need to worry about money.  But now, he’d begun to lose weight and was tired all of the time.

He’d been to a dozen healers. He’d consulted experts in other countries.  He’d even gone to a Muggle doctor.  No one could pinpoint the problem.

He’d finally come back around to the Malfoy’s long-time family healer, Julius Greengrass. The elder Greengrass was transitioning into retirement, but recommended his youngest daughter, Astoria.

Astoria Greengrass quickly gained his trust with a potion which alleviated his headaches and gave him back his appetite. When she theorized his magical core was destabilized, he listened. Whether it was a primary or secondary effect of the mysterious disease was difficult to determine.

* * *

 

“You never come out for drinks anymore, Draco. It seems every week you have an excuse.” Theo wasn’t usually so straight forward, but it appeared he’d grown tired of his usual tactics of attempting to entice Draco with gossip, gambling, copious amounts of alcohol, and loose women.

Granted, the loose women hadn’t tempted Draco for quite some time. Much to the chagrin of nearly all witches between the ages of 17 and 77, Draco Malfoy was off the market. Even after six years of marriage, there were still occasions when a woman tried.

“You need to get out of this manor; it isn’t helping,” Theo prodded.

Draco clenched his hands tightly and ground his balled fists into his thighs.  He glared up at Theo through his blond fringe. “I am not making excuses,” he rasped.

He knew he was making excuses, but telling his friend he feared to be stared at, no longer with hatred, but with pity, was too much.

“And I do get out, Theo.  I visit the foster home nearly weekly,” Draco added.

“That doesn’t count," Theo said with disdain, "You look better today, you have more color than the last time I came for brunch. Maybe we could try a pub in Muggle London.”

Draco did feel better.  Astoria had been by nearly every day this week, trying out a new therapy.  The Greengrass family magic was tied to the earth and Astoria had decided it could be helpful to spend time to try to renew Draco’s family magic via the ancient stone circle which predated even the Manor.  For the  past five days, she’d apparated them to the circle past the formal gardens that surrounded the manor, further back in a wilder part of the vast holdings surrounding his ancestral home.  Astoria worked with Draco to access the magic in the land and also in the air as they grew close to Samhain.

Draco was excited to share the way the magic swirled in and around the stones and moved along his body, calming his tremors, with Hermione once she returned from her trip.

A few months prior, Astoria had attempted a new potions regime with Draco and he’d gone into remission for almost a month, with just the slightest of uncontrollable movements still visible.  Sadly, Hermione had missed most of his good days, she’d been gone then too, only witnessing a handful at the tail end before he’d relapsed.

“I do feel better.  It feels I have been improving again,” Draco grudgingly conceded. “Maybe a Muggle pub for just one drink would be ok.”

Theo sent an owl to Greg and Blaise, telling them the name of a spot they’d feel comfortable in, then side-apparated Draco to an alley near the small pub.

* * *

 

After talking Draco into a second round drinks, Theo surreptitiously cast a Muffliato and leaned across the table towards Draco.  Blaise and Greg shared a look; the former leaned in also.

“Look mate, we wanted you to come out for a different reason than we let on,” Theo began conspiratorially. 

Draco sighed.  He should have known.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “What Theo is trying to say is that we wanted to make sure no one would overhear this conversation.  We aren’t sure the Manor is safe.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at his friends.

“Have you noticed… a pattern -” Theo hesitated, finishing off half of his new drink in one gulp, “to your sickness?  Like, you seem to improve whenever Hermione is away?”

“What are you implying?” Draco narrowed his eyes, shifting them just enough to look at each of his friends.  Greg quickly looked away, staring out the window at the few people wandering by rather than at the other wizards.  Whatever idea was being presented, Draco doubted his oldest friend was completely convinced.  Greg was horrible at hiding his guilt.

Draco wanted to deny it, but he’d recently noticed it too.  At first he’d thought he was just tired from the various activities their new lives necessitated.  As part of her healing process from her first and second miscarriage, Hermione had asked Draco if he would share his magic with her.  He’d happily agreed.

The third time she’d conceived, a year after the last one, and nine months plus two children into the foster program, she asked if they could up it, hoping his magic would help keep the baby growing safely inside her.  It hadn’t worked.

Once his illness had shown signs of messing with his magical core, she hadn’t asked for him to give her any of his magic again.  Yet, sometimes, he awoke in the middle of the night, to the strangest sensation. It had felt similar to what the two of them had done, but when he’d see her sleeping soundly next to him, he’d write it off to his mystery disease.

He didn’t want to believe she was still taking his magic without his permission, syphoning it off during the night.  Yet, it was difficult to deny he could feel the difference the longer she was off on a trip.  He’d convinced himself it was coincidence.

“It’s just, well, where does Hermione find these Muggleborn children?” Blaise demanded, his shoulders tense and his mouth hard.

“Sweet Salazar!  Are you saying you think -” Draco couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“That’s she’s ‘creating’ them from your magic?” Greg broke in derisively. “That’s exactly what these two think.”

Greg lifted his drink and used it to gesture at Blaise and Theo before taking a sip.  He set it back down and closed his eyes, looking tired.  Draco wondered how long the other two had argued with Greg to get him to come along.

"I know which books she read in my library,” Theo challenged. “A log is updated automatically every time one is taken off a shelf. Do you have any idea what she was reading when researching for her writing?”

“You are bloody idiots!” Draco’s voice rose - his anger evident in the tone. “You still believe that tripe Umbridge tried to sell? You can’t steal magic and put it into someone else.”

Draco made to get up, but realized he had no way to get home on his own. He slumped back down.

“Just hear us out,” Theo beseeched. 

“Have you read my wife’s books?  The ones on genetics?” Draco scoffed. “Magic doesn’t just appear out of thin air - it’s there, generation after generation, lying dormant, just waiting for the correct combination of DNA.”

“Yes, but what if, you could, under the the right circumstances, pour enough magic into someone with the potential to be a witch or wizard and switch on that DNA?” Theo’s eyes were wide and his eyebrows raised, an expectant look on his face.

“I’ve seen the detailed records of the barbaric experiments more than one of my ancestors performed on Squibs before expunging them from the family tree.” Draco shuddered. “They didn’t work.  And Hermione would never do anything like that!  She muttered about Nazis and was in a funk for weeks after we found those journals in Grimmauld Place.”

Draco finished off his drink, waving the server back away when she made to offer him a third.

“Yes, but they didn’t understand genetics, did they?  What if Hermione has figured out something they missed?” Blaise looked almost excited by the idea.

“Greg?” Draco asked, turning to his silent friend.  The dark-haired man shrugged.

“You don’t seem to believe this theory.” Draco was worried and he wanted someone to talk him back from believing his wife could be involved in anything like this.  Yet, it seemed plausible.  And he hadn’t even told them about the magic sharing.  Only his mother knew about that little secret.

Greg sighed. “I can’t deny there  _ appears  _ to be a pattern.  Hermione goes away, you get bored, or lonely, or whatever, and you throw yourself into therapy.  You seem to make progress, but then your wife comes back and you get sick again.  However,” he gave Draco a meaningful look, “I am not saying that Hermione is the cause.”

“Well, I am,” Theo stated.

“Me too,” Blaise said.

Draco went home that night, telling his friends he would think about what they’d said, but he didn’t want them to spread this around or make any unfounded accusations.

* * *

 

Hermione came home the night before Samhain with stories about an eighteen month old girl she’d found in the Caribbean. She’d be able to go back for her in two weeks.  Draco told her about the spells he’d been using in the stone circle.

“You can access even more of your family power tomorrow night, can’t you?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Yes, but Astoria wasn’t sure if I should try that in my weakened state.  We’ve been working over the past week as the magic increases before peaking on Samhain.  It may overload me to try it tomorrow.”

“What if you had other family members there to help discharge any extra - to ground you?” Draco was having trouble deciding if he was reading too much into Hermione’s interest.  She could just be genuinely excited about helping him, or her inner swot could be showing itself, or, and this was the part he didn’t want to dwell on, she could be thinking of stealing more of his magic.

Bloody hell, he needed to figure this out.

“No, I don’t want to chance it.  Astoria was adamant,” Draco insisted, watching Hermione closely.

“If Astoria says so,” Hermione agreed.

Draco noted Hermione’s hunched shoulders and furrowed brow.  She didn’t look overjoyed by any means, but rather defeated.

The family still celebrated Samhain, but not out in the circle. They stayed closer to the Manor, lighting a small fire in a pit in the garden.  The elves had baked Soul Cakes for Narcissa and Draco to leave out. Hermione set a glass of wine beside the treats before they retired for the evening.

* * *

 

“Can we go to the circle today?” Draco awoke to Hermione draped across his body, her hand tracing circles on his bare chest. She tilted her head up from where it laid in the crook of his arm to look at him.

“So eager for so early,” he mumbled as he mentally assessed his physical state, comparing himself to previous days.

“I want to see what has been making you stronger. Today there still should still be a good amount of magic in the land from last night’s festivities.” From celebrations years past, she knew Samhain technically stretched until the sun set. “I still don't understand why your family hasn't been using the stones for celebrations all along.”

“We don't currently have anyone in our family with strong enough earth magics to use them properly. I’m lucky the Greengrass line can harness even some of our circle’s energy, considering they aren’t a part of the Malfoy family.” Draco slid out from under and turned towards Hermione.  “It isn’t something you can learn from a book.”

Hermione frowned, but just for a moment.

She draped a leg over his hip and pressed up against Draco. “Since you’re feeling better-” she purred.

Draco pushed the now ever-present doubts regarding his wife to the back of his mind as he rolled atop her.

After a late breakfast in bed, Hermione once again brought up the stones.

“They say curiosity killed the cat, Hermione,” Draco told her, shifting his body to get comfortable.  He was considering staying in bed all day.

“They also say that satisfaction brought it back,” Hermione answered, pulling her hair up into a bun before smiling lasciviously at him.

“Are you attempting to bribe me with sex?” Draco arched an eyebrow.

“Possibly.  Would it work?”

* * *

 

After a very satisfying second round, Draco did indeed lead her out to the family’s sacred circle.

“I can feel the difference. It feels so much more like the one at Longbottom Manor,” Hermione spun around slowly, arms held out, eyes shut.

Draco admired the picture she made, slightly smiling as she suffused herself in the family magic that was also hers now by rights.  Gods, he loved this woman.  Why did he allow the bastards he called friends to plant a seed of doubt.

Hermione stopped moving and opened her eyes. “Make love to me here,” she demanded.

Draco spluttered, “What?” while Hermione pulled her wand out and cast a quick series of spells. He felt the temperature around them rise immediately.

She walked towards him, hips swaying seductively. She reached up and slowly started unbuttoning his shirt.  He stood frozen.

“You heard me,” she began before pressing a kiss to his neck. “Make,” a kiss below his Adam’s apple, “love,” a kiss lower on the skin she was baring as she continued to unbutton his shirt, “to,” a kiss to the center of his chest, “me,” a kiss just about his navel, “here,” she finished with a kiss that included her tongue swiping below the top button of his trousers as she worked his belt off.

She looked up from where she now knelt on the ground before him, her pupils blown wide as she lowered his trousers.  Her eyes dropped back down when she had him fully exposed and she licked her lips in anticipation. He saw no reason to say no, especially not when her warm wet mouth enveloped him.

It wasn't long before he was watching her ride him, the sun behind her creating a halo around her body.

* * *

 

“Astoria stopped by today while you and Hermione were out walking,” Narcissa informed Draco over dinner. He nearly choked, thinking about what they’d been doing, out in the open, rather than walking.

“She started out to find you, but suddenly remembered she had another appointment,” Narcissa continued, missing her son’s discomfort.

Draco turned to look at Hermione.  She sent him a wink, which he returned with a smirk.  The minx had put up more than a warming charm, thankfully keeping prying eyes away.

“She left behind the next round of potions for you.  With Samhain over, she wants to continue to your previous treatment while she waits to see what lasting effects Samhain may have,” Narcissa finished.

Draco awoke the next morning with a headache.  His wife had talked him into shagging a fourth time before falling asleep last night.  Perhaps he was just tired.

He knew without a doubt he was regressing by the following morning - he stood before his mirror, struggling to button his shirt.  Hermione came up behind him, as she did many a morning, and wrapped her arms around him, gently moving his hands aside in order to do up the buttons for him.  She was still naked and feeling her breasts pressed enticingly against him with only a thin shirt between them caused a noticeable twitch below her hands.

He felt the reverberations of her hum against his back.  He chuckled when her deft fingers began undoing what they’d just accomplished.  He couldn’t see much of her in the mirror, beyond her messy hair, and her arms.

She was such a temptress - over the years he’d found himself hard pressed to ever say no to her advances.   _ Hold on - _ , he thought,  _ a literal temptress. _

The thought flitted away as he watched her hands pull his shirt off his shoulders, dragging the sleeves down his arms, before it fell to the floor. Her arms wrapped back around him and her hands moved down to pull the waistband of his boxer briefs far enough out to divest him of them.  Her naked body touching him, flesh to flesh, felt delicious.

His entire body  _ sung _ as his eyes stayed glued to the mirror watching her hand wrap around him and slowly start to pump. She peppered his back with open-mouthed kisses as she picked up the pace.

He began to thrust into her had, his hips moving of the volition. He felt the soft curls at the apex of her thighs against his arse, their bodies not pressed tightly together, as her hips moved in rhythm with his. 

He panted as he grew closer.  He glanced at his face.  His jaw was slack and his eyes hooded.  Hermione raked the nails of her free hand across his chest, leaving red marks behind.  He looked back down to her other hand and came with a groan.

He heard her moan behind him, seeming to enjoy his ecstasy as much as he did.  He remembered his last coherent thought before he got lost in the sensations she created.

* * *

 

When she left for the foster home to insure the final preparations were in place for their newest arrival, he begged off joining her, saying he needed to rest.  As soon as she was gone, he owled Theo, asking if the Nott library had any books on Succubuses. He waited for his friend in his study.

“Can a Succubus mate with humans? Could someone be a part Succubus, like Fleur Weasley is a part Veela? Could she be one without knowing it?” Draco rapid-fired the questions at Theo when the other man appeared with a small pile of books.

“Slow down,” Theo admonished him. “I assume we mean Hermione?”

When Draco nodded, Theo sighed with relief. “So you believe me and Blaise.”

“I don’t believe your hare-brained idea that she is stealing my magic to create witches and wizards out of Muggles.  Let’s be clear on that point.  But, there is something… off,” Draco admitted.

Theo only agreed to help with the new research if they called Blaise and Greg.  Greg still seemed unconvinced, even with Draco’s tempered enthusiasm.

“Your library must have more books on this than Theo’s,” Blaise grumbled after only a few minutes.

“Yes, but my library has the same cataloguing spell as Theo’s, so if Hermione happened to look at the log, she’d see the books I’d taken off the shelves to read.”

“I think it’d be worth it, to have more books.  What are the odds she’d notice?” Blaise argued.

Draco called for his mother’s elf, Daisy, and asked her to retrieve the needed books.

The elf came back with about a dozen tomes and scrolls of parchment.  They passed them around, along with Theo’s books, for the next two hours, silently reading.

Narcissa popped her head in at one point, saying Daisy had told her they were all there, and asking if they would be staying for lunch.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” all three men answered dutifully.

“My son is lucky to have such fine friends,” she smiled before sweeping back out of the room.

By the end of their reading the four wizards had come to the conclusion that Hermione could indeed be part succubus - perhaps a few generations back.  However, none of them could agree on whether she was in control of the powers which went along with it.  Once again, Greg attempted to be the voice of reason.

“Just because she  _ could be one _ that doesn’t mean she is one,” he reminded them. “Draco’s never seen anything to prove she is.”

Draco found himself with no appetite during lunch, although it was difficult to say if it was because of his mounting trepidation over the possibilities of his wife’s duplicities, or just because of how run down his body was beginning to feel again.

* * *

 

When Hermione once again left to see to their newest ward, Draco felt a weight lift.  He didn’t like sneaking around behind her back.  He also perversely wondered if he would begin to mend again without her near.

A week into his wife’s absence, he found himself enjoying a sunny afternoon in the conservatory with his mother and Astoria.  The mediwitch had appeared, saying she had another idea.

“What if we attempt a ritual in my family’s stone circle?  We use it extensively, keeping the magic strong in it year-round, not just on holy days,” she began laying out her plan. “I’d like to see if we can extend the positive effects on you. With it being Greengrass magic rather than Malfoy, it may not work the same way as the reawakened magic on your land.”

Draco saw Astoria’s hesitation in getting his hopes up.

“That sounds like a fabulous idea, doesn’t it Draco?” his mother looked to him, ignoring the other witch's discomfort.

“I can have it ready tomorrow at sundown,” Astoria said.

* * *

 

Two days later, Hermione still wasn’t back, but Draco wasn’t thinking much about her.  He’d woken up with his appetite returned.  He felt strong enough to try a bit of magic, putting his clothes on with a spell rather than trying to use his often uncooperative fingers for buttons.

After breakfast, Narcissa said she’d be taking tea in her sitting room, enjoying some quiet time with a book.  Draco knew it meant she’d like some privacy to converse with the portrait of his father which hung in there.

_ Narcissa sat in her room, a myriad of spells in place to keep out anyone else and protect her words from being overheard.  She looked up at the painting of her deceased husband. _

_ “I believe it is finally working, Lucius.  Daisy has continued to carefully administer the potion to Draco in his tea each day, upping or scaling back the doses as I command, to time them with the Mudblood’s comings and goings.  It is so difficult to watch our precious son suffer, but I won’t let myself forget why it needs to be done.  There hasn’t been a pregnancy in two years now, I think we are safe there.  The seed I planted with the young Nott boy has taken root.  Theodore has also brought Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle into his quest.  Draco isn’t convinced his wife is a magic thief quite yet, but he is well on his way.  I laughed out loud earlier this week when Daisy told me the boys were reading up on Succubuses. I considered dropping a hint on vampires.  But, most glorious of all, last night the youngest Greengrass girl truly positioned herself as our son’s savior.  Our years of hard work will pay off.  I’m just sorry you won’t be here to celebrate with me when Draco finally rids himself of Hermione Granger.” _


End file.
